The beginning of the End - a book by Louise Thompson
Chapter one
It was a cool Autumn day in London and even with the stench of child poverty in the air I knew I had been awarded this wealthy lifestyle just by being myself. I could feel the breeze telling me that today was of importance. That today my life would change.
I had spent the day doing what I had done for the last year, lounging around the house eating salmon and kale. The difference in today was that I was 40 weeks pregnant. I had had an amazing pregnancy, I felt like the earth had moved differently for me and I knew birth would come easily as I’d spent the last 40 weeks obsessing over hypnobirth and preparing my above average body for the mountain I was yet to climb.
I felt my first contraction at 4:04pm. It hurt, but not in any way comparable to what I was to go through in the following weeks, months and years.
I had been advised by health professionals that going private would be my only option, that a celebrity of my calibre couldn’t bring a child into this world in a poor hospital surrounded by poor people. After being in labour for what felt like eternity I finally went to hospital. I had only spent a few hours doing my make up that day and that had been my biggest regret of all.
With each contraction came a strong wave of pain, I knew with each gut ripping pain that these must have been far worse than any other woman had experienced during labour, something wasn’t right. My uterus was contracting stronger than my heart had ever been crushed by Spencer. Something in my gut told me that there was something wrong. That maybe choosing a male that was double my weight and height may have been a mistake. I should have stuck with Niall.
Everything from then happened in a blur. This human I had grown was ripped from my body, and as I lay there open on the operating theatre for all the world to see, the mountains of doctors and privately paid surgeons worked tirelessly to save my abs. They kept me awake for the whole operation, extremely uncommon I know but I am Louise thompson, it meant I could put into detail one day how I danced with death, not once but multiple times. How I clung on more than an average fat person. How my body defeated the odds and birthed a child.
And this was it, the trauma I’d be waiting for, the story of how I would make my living for the next 5 years.